It just wouldn't end
by AnadoraBlack
Summary: A series of one-shots I promised some while ago. Characters will change with the chapters.
1. About toads and lost shoes

_ A/N: I promised it a while ago, now I'm publishing it! Rejoy!_

**1. About toads and lost shoes.**

Luna wasn't late. She barely was looking for a pair of shoes, her favourite pair of shoes. So she was wandering through the castle, bare footed, wearing a jean and above it a dark skirt. Where were those shoes?

Neville, for his part, was looking for his toad, the always escaping Trevor. There was nowhere he could think the poor animal had escaped. He was wandering around the corridor leading to the Room of Requirements when he spotted Luna, looking up at the ceiling with a finger on her lips.

"Are you looking for something?" It always was difficult for him to talk to her, she made him feel weird.

"Oh, yes. I was wondering how I could take these off the ceiling." She pointed at her shoes, hanging far above their heads.

"Don't you have your wand?" He got his own out of his back pocket and waved it towards the shoes. "Wingardium Leviosa!" The pair started floating, and with an air of complete concentration, Neville made it fly towards their owner.

"Thank you, Neville." Luna's absent blue eyes met his and he felt himself blush. "Aren't you looking for something yourself?"

He nodded as she put her shoes on. "My toad. You know, Trevor."

"Yes, I do remember your toad. He's a nice fellow. I've talked with him quite a few times now. Do you still feed him flies? He hates them."

Neville stared at her as if she was a strange beast. Then he shook his head. "You...spoke...to Trevor?"

"Of course I did. Dad says that whenever your mind's opened for it, you can speak with any animal. I started with a goldfish I had when I was a little girl. It talked to me about his depression and everything. I thought I'd helped him but he ended up committing suicide anyway."

Neville kept looking strangely at her, torn between laugh and admiration.

"So, have you looked through here? Some toads like the view from this window." She took his hand, failed to see his cheeks flushing, and pulled him towards a big window which showed the lake below. "No, obviously he's not here. Maybe there." She pulled him again towards another window, then towards the Room of Requirements itself. "I wish to see Trevor please." She turned three times before the wall, and after the third time, a tiny, really tiny door appeared. She kneeled before it and knocked.

"Trevor? Are you in here? Neville's looking for you." Her dreamy voice was so appealling, Neville thought. She might be bonkers, but she was the nicest person he'd ever met. She suddenly turned to him. "I'm sorry, Neville. Trevor says he'd like to stay in there for a while. He can't stand your dorm anymore."

Neville shrugged. "Can you tell him he can stay as long as he likes but only if he leaves a note?" What nonsense was he saying now?

"He can hear you, Neville." Luna's eyes were almost angry. Almost. She never got angry. "He says okay, and demands us to leave." She got up and faced Neville once more.

They just stood there, staring at each other, for a few minutes, before Neville could articulate some words. "Luna? Can I ask you something?"

"Yes, of course you can." She put a strand of hair off her face.

"Will you go to Hogsmeade with me?"

Her smile was the best thing he'd ever seen in his life. "Of course I will."

And she pulled him back towards the Great Hall for diner.


	2. About Diagon Alley and forgiveness

_ A/N: Obviously I don't own the characters nor the locations displayed here, only what I make with them..._

**2. About Diagon Alley and forgiveness.**

Hermione was walking in Diagon Alley. She didn't know what she was looking for, only that she just wanted a moment alone, after all that had happened in the Battle of Hogwarts, Ron and everything. She didn't know what to think about it. She had thought it a very good idea at first, but as the days went by, she couldn't help herself thinking Ron wasn't the right guy for her. At all.

Draco, on the other hand, was clearly avoiding going to Diagon Alley when it wasn't necessary. His family was still seen as traitors, and the death of his father wasn't really helping. He would offer everything he had to be born in a normal rebel family. He could have been friends with Potter, Weasel and everything would have been just fine.

They both didn't see the other coming, until they bumped into each other in front of Nockturn Alley's stairs. Hermione jumped backwards when she saw who it was, and Draco only sighed at her frown.

"Hello, Granger."

She didn't frown when he said her name. It was almost as if it was a apologetic word. "Hello, Malfoy. What are you doing here?" She arranged her clothes, though no dust was visible on it.

"I was...you don't want to know anyway, why should I tell you?"

"I heard your father died. I'm...sorry for you." It wasn't really true. Lucius Malfoy had always freaked her out, the world was better without him.

Draco didn't miss it. "Thanks. I'll just-" He tried to leave her alone, but strangely it didn't seem to bother her that he was there. "I don't freak you out, then, Granger?"

She shrugged. "It's not like you were dangerous, Ferret." She showed him her wand in her sleeve. "And anyway, you weren't the creepiest of them all."

He started following her as she resumed walking. "Yeah, well, I guess it's a bit late for that but...I'm sorry. About that day. In the Manor."

Hermione stopped and faced him. He was looking sincere. That day had been the most horrible of all her life. Only thinking about it made her mental scars crack open. She automatically touched the scar Bellatrix had carved her in her right arm. "I...accept your apologies."

He bowed. "Thank you. It means a lot to me."

She sighed again. "You were as frightened of her as we all were. It's not like you had the choice anyway."

He kicked a nearby wall with his fist. It didn't even hurt a little, and he looked at the bleeding flesh with curious eyes. "I could have stood before them. Get you out. All of you. I was such a coward."

She hesitated but put her hand on his shoulder anyway. "Draco..." It was nearly hard to say his name without spitting it out. "...you're not a coward now. We all know it."

And she resumed walking. He didn't follow her at first, but then made up his mind and walked next to her tiny figure. "Would you...mind-"

"Drinking a Botterbeer, or even a Firewhiskey, would be the best thing that would happen today. Thanks for asking." She literally pulled him towards a bar, sat at the counter and asked for two whiskeys.

He looked at her in awe. "You really are one of a kind, Granger."

"Because I'm a Mudblood?" Her voice was sharp even if she didn't intend it to be.

"No, that's not what I meant." He shifted his weight on the stool, feeling uncomfortable about that conversation. "I wish I never treated you like that."

"I wish it too. Things would be easier, wouldn't they?"

"Anyway, I heard you and Weasel were getting along?"

She turned to face him. "Why would you care?" Then she made up a face. "No, I...we...I don't know. It doesn't feel right."

His grey eyes widened. "Really? I've always thought you were meant to be. As Potter and the red-head fury."

She giggled. "Yes, Harry and Ginny were meant to be together, but...I mean...it's just like I was dating my own brother!"

He made a disgusted sound. "It doesn't seem agreeable at all."

"No, it isn't." She giggled again and took a blazing sip of whiskey. "And you? Still single? Where has Parkinson gone to?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Pansy and I? No way! It would be just like you and Weasel. Duh!"

"Well, I guess we aren't lucky, then."

He looked at her intensely for a minute, and then sighed. "It's too difficult."

His whisper got in her ears. "What is?"

"You shouldn't be that attractive, it isn't fair. We're like...deadly enemies, even now the War had ended. And I'm here, sitting at a counter with you, Hermione Granger, and I wish I was dead after all I did to make you suffer."

She looked stunned. "You...Oh my God! Don't tell me you're-" She looked in his glass. "You're not even drunk! What are you thinking?"

Hermione got up, paid the barman and quickly tried to get out of the bar. Draco caught her arm before she could open the door.

"You forgave me, didn't you?" His eyes were pleading.

"Yes, I did, but don't push-"

His lips met hers, and she couldn't say anything else.

_ This chapter was way easier to write... Hope you enjoyed it!_

_ As you might have guessed now, I'm a total Dramione fan... Shame on me!_

_ Review! Who would you like next chapter to be about? :)_


	3. About parental issues

_ A/N: I've had a few replies on who to write about, please please let me know when you ahev cravings... ^^_

_ I promise I'll write another Dramione drabble in some chapters, you'll just have to be patient!_

**3. About parental issues.**

"George! Come here please!" Angelina's voice was trying not to sound angry, but she was, he could tell. After all, she was his wife.

There had been few moments in his life where George had fully wished he had died in place of Fred. He was feeling this aching nothingness in a part of his brain, especially when his son, who looked just like his dead uncle, was pranking someone in the house.

"Comin', dearie!" He quietly got down the stairs into the kitchen. His wife was standing, hands on her hips, in front of the family table, a crunching of glass behind her. "What he they done again?" He sighed.

"I'm tired of this, George Weasley! Your son can't stop doing pranks! He just broke half of our wedding plate assortment!" George restrained a huff. "I know you find it really funny, but I don't. It's about time that you take your father's responsibilities, get up there and yell at Fred!" She lifted a finger that said "I'm won't say it twice!". He sighed, pecked her on the cheek and turned around to climb the stairs once more, direction: Fred Weasley II's room.

"Fred? Open the door please, we have to talk."

George heard his first born get up from his bed and stop behind the door, which remained untouched. He could hear his breathing across the wood.

"Are you gonna yell at me?"

George laughed. "No, I'm not. I'm just going to pretend I'm gonna yell at you."

Fred opened the door. His red hair on his dark skin was always something his father wasn't used to, especially when he looked at him with the same concerned expression his twin used to have before a prank.

"Fred, sit down please." Father and son faced each other, door closed to be sure Angelina wouldn't hear a word. "Your mother's tired of your pranks. And if I'm being honest, which I always am,-"

"Except when Grandma's here.

"Yes, except when she is here. Well, I was saying, I too am becoming tired of this, but not for the same reasons."

George took something in his pocket and handed it to Fred.

"Wow! What is that?"

"Something I just invented. That's an undetectable guilty pill. If you take it and you do something bad to your mother's house, she won't know it's you."

Fred's eyes widened in excitement.

"But, because there's always a but, you have to promise me that, when you reach Hogwarts, you'll play better than this. I quite liked those plates too."

"No you didn't. That's why I made the furniture explode." George ruffled his son's hair. "I promise."

His father nodded, making his few wrinkles appear in the faint light. "Now, I'm afraid you'll have to get down the stairs and apologize to your mother, unless I fear you will have to beg for food tonight." He knew Fred, just like Ron, couldn't bare not to eat for too long.

"Okay." He jumped out of his bed and nearly ran downstairs.

In the meantime, George headed to his daughter's room. "Roxie? Can I come in?"

He heard a faint mumble, and when he opened the door, he saw his little Roxanne reading on her bed. He chuckled a little at the sight.

"Roxie, your brother has pranked us again."

"I couldn't miss Mummy yelling all over, Daddy." She barely lifted her gaze from the page.

"Just be quiet tonight, right. One murder's enough for one evening." And George closed the door behind him.

As he went downstairs, he saw Fred getting out, mumbling something very interesting about blowing Granddad's car or something.

George went over to his wife, who had resumed her preparation of diner, and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Angie..."

"Yes, Georgie?"

"I fear our son won't get any better until he gets to Hogwarts."

She giggled a little. "He's just like you. He'll blow the house up if I don't send him to James."

"That's a perfect idea." And he kissed her cheek.

_ I like writing things like that! :D_

_ Review please!_


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